


Envy

by annihilation- (horsegrl)



Series: Sigils [3]
Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Asmodeus - Freeform, Begging, Coffee, Demons, F/M, Hallucinations, Lucifer - Freeform, Magic, Marking, Masturbation, Seven Deadly Sins, Sigils, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, Visions, if the kitchen is rocking don't come a-knocking, self love, sex with clothes mostly on, there's always coffee, what's wrong with that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7397254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsegrl/pseuds/annihilation-
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of the Sigil series.</p><p>Envy. When a demon calls you, don't dare to think that they are easily sated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It never ended. The phone calls, the emails. I sighed and poked my glasses back up my nose. Surveying the mass of paperwork on my desk, I felt another piece of my soul depart my body. 

I was making progress, no doubt, but there was so much left before I could even consider walking out of my office and seeking comfort. I had yet to decide if “comfort” would be a bottle, a bath, or bed. Bed, I thought, had a certain appeal. I felt a rush of blood heat my cheeks as my thoughts drifted. I rubbed absentmindedly at the prickling sigil beneath my left breast. Yes, I mused, it appealed on several levels. 

Slumping over, I banged my elbows down on my desk. I nestled my forehead in my palms and closed my burning eyes for a moment. I felt something move against my elbow and my eyes shot open just quickly enough to witness a stack of invoices slide off my desk and scatter all over the floor, like pallid leaves before an autumn wind. I cursed them heartily as I hoisted myself out of the chair and scrabbled around under my desk, gathering them together once again. 

I straightened up and slapped them down on my desk. Invoices. Quotes to be reviewed. Merch samples. Rental agreements. Some could wait, some could not. My head was pounding. This, I decided as I clutched my favorite mug (the one with brass knuckles as the handle), required more coffee. Stat.

\------

Hours later, I pushed myself triumphantly away from my desk. My head lolled back, hanging slackly against the back of the chair as I stared blankly at the ornate tin paneling decorating the ceiling. My arms hung limp over the armrests of the chair. 

The prickling of Asmodeus’ sigil had never quite left me. I didn't know whether to blame the demon or myself, but despite being exhausted I craved satiation. Closing my eyes, I tried to push the ache in my underbelly away, tried to ignore the sigil’s call, but it was no use. Acknowledging it was only making the need grow. 

I found my mind drifting again. My eyes slid closed as I became acutely aware of my body. The setting sun was warming the left side of my face. The last glow of the westering light beat against me, ruddy and glorious. The heat was soothing and seemed to spread across my chest, causing the sensation of Asmodeus's mark to change from a prickling to a dull, pulsing heat. The sensation of my erect nipples shifting against my clothes with my indrawn breath made me shiver. The sullen silence of my office enveloped me as I let go of the tension I had been holding in my body, jaw unclenching, shoulders dropping back. 

The silence was reassuring, given the fact that my hand had found its way into my pants. I sighed as I rolled my hips into a more comfortable position. Sliding off my shoes, I braced one foot against the edge of my desk as I took a shaky breath. I grunted softly as my fingers expertly rubbed my clit. No one, I mused, could ever know your body like you know it yourself. 

My other hand traced the sigil beneath my left breast. I bit my lip as the sigil began to pulse warmly, heat trickling down, coursing like molten sunlight down through my innards to join the ache in my cunt. I couldn't call it, it came as it pleased, fickle and fleeting. I had learned to make the most of its presence. I lost myself deeply in the sigil’s magic. A familiar name was on my lips as I came, back arching as my slick fingers gave Asmodeus his due.

Spent, I sagged back in the chair as my breathing normalized in the quiet, dusky room. The sigil still beat incessantly, pulsing with dull warmth. I could feel a thread of power drawing tight through my body, connecting Asmodeus's mark to my cunt, feeding it heat. This was nowhere near over, I realized. I would need him for this. No, I wanted him for this. Always. 

As I zipped my pants up, I heard a knock at the door. Much to my horror, I realized that I had not heard any approaching footsteps, which meant that whoever was out there had been in the hallway for quite some time. I could feel my face flush in sheer mortification as I crossed to the door and opened it. 

Emeritus, I groaned inwardly as he raised an eyebrow in obvious amusement at what he had been an uninvited party to. He nodded cordially. 

“Finished for the day?” he inquired innocently.

“Ah, yes. Whatever is left,” I gestured at the small pile of papers remaining, “can wait for another time.”

“Excellent, I have the utmost faith in your diligence. Now,” he said, clasping his hands together, “it seems we both require the services of the same ghoul.”

I clenched my jaw, willing my face to remain neutral. I had so been busted, and he was loving every minute of this.

“Oh,” I said innocently, “is that so?”

“Yes, dear one, I think it is. You see...well, rather, I heard his name upon your lips from way down the hall, and I assumed he was here with you. You know, helping you rearrange your drawers or maybe taking dictation or something of the sort.”

I smiled sweetly at him, expecting at any moment that my ears would burst into flames. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, Emeritus, but I've been here on my own all day and you're the first person I've laid eyes on since breakfast.”

“Ah! Well in that case, there's only one place he could be.” Emeritus grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. I realized too late that he had grabbed the hand that had lately been in my pants. I cringed inwardly as he pressed a kiss to my hand. 

Taking my hand away, he winked at me. “Follow me, darling, I know where we can come upon him since he's sadly not here under you.” He laughed mischievously as he towed me along behind him, “With! Pardon me, a slip of the tongue. With you, I meant!”

I shot daggers at the back of his head as I followed him down the hallway.


	2. Envy II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sigil pulls. Memories arise, unbidden. We find the ghoul and meditate on the magic in this world.

I followed Emeritus through the abbey. I could have easily gone off on my own to find the Ghoul, but Emeritus would have shown up on my heels, regardless. I held his elbow and we chatted pleasantly as we walked along. My mind was light years away, and he seemed to know exactly where he was going. 

We passed along a windowed arcade as we approached the library. The dying light of the day struck my face once again and Asmodeus’ sigil twisted beneath my breast, plucking mercilessly along the thread of power it had woven down to my cunt. 

A soft grunt escaped me as my hand twitched and flew up to my chest. My pace slowed as I felt myself pulling inward, wrapping around the cord humming tautly within. 

My arm slipped from his hand and he turned back to see what had happened. Concern was writ large on his face as he called my name. Mouth agape, I raised my eyes to his face as the sigil poured fire into my underbelly.

A dark look crossed Emeritus’ eyes as he grabbed me by the upper arms and pulled me from the glowing pool of light streaming in the window. 

I found I had been holding my breath, and as the sigil loosened its grip on me, I was able to pull an unsteady breath into my aching lungs. I clutched at the sigil beneath my breast. My clit burned. My chest burned. And as I met Emeritus’ eyes, my face burned as well. 

“By the devil, my dear woman, are you alright?” He took me by the shoulder and quickly pulled me into the library while I tried to stammer a response. 

He guided me into a chair and perched on a footstool before me. “What happened there? You gave me quite a scare, the look on your face...it was like something was tearing you apart.” 

He laid a hand over mine, which still tried in vain to soothe the sweet ache from the sigil. Emeritus recoiled from me, hand pulling away from mine as if it were a hot poker. He quickly mastered the shock on his face, replacing it with a look of kind concern. 

“Please. You gave me a fright...won't you tell me what happened?”

I scrambled for a believable response. “Heartburn,” I said. While I wasn't really lying, that answer certainly wasn't the truth either. I smiled and laughed, trying to be convincing. “Too much coffee today.”

Emeritus gave me a dark look and rose to his feet. “I don't believe you,” he said bluntly, “but your secrets are your own to keep.”

He knew. We both knew it, but neither of us had the nerve to call the other out.

I didn't know what to say to Emeritus. I hadn't come to terms with my sigils yet. That I had been noticed by two great lords of Hell, Asmodeus and Lucifer, was overwhelming to me. Only the Ghoul knew about them. Being so marked was certainly not shameful, but I regarded it as a private matter, an intimate detail I shared and enjoyed with him. He had been there both times I was marked. The sigils linked us, more surely than blood, oaths or even love ever could.

My eyes slid shut. I could feel the sigil fighting against my control once more. A memory shimmered to the surface, coalescing in the darkness behind my eyelids:

_...hands in my hair...his voice..._

_All the demons and lords of hell can touch you and mark your skin. I can’t mark you like they do...I mark you more deeply...when you cry for me...when I'm deep inside you, I know I've marked your soul._

I knit my brow in confusion as I looked at the hand shaking my shoulder. It wasn't his. And the voice. That was also wrong. Reality washed back over me with a sudden lurch. 

I bit off a groan as I struggled to make sense of what Emeritus was trying to say to me. I struggled to master the desire within me, like grappling with a half seen adversary in the night. 

_That memory._

“...early in the evening to fall asleep, my dear one. I know you had a long day, but really. Take these.” 

I blinked as my brain slipped into gear once more. Emeritus dropped a handful of books into my lap. They were well worn and hand written notes poked out from them at all angles. 

“Our friend had asked me to research a few things, and since you also needed to see him, I had hoped you wouldn't mind helping me tote all of this down to him.” 

“I need to…” 

Emeritus’ regarded me appraisingly as I struggled to find my words. 

“…I want...”

“Come now, my dear,” he sighed as he took my elbow and helped me out of the chair, “or want shall be your master.”

The smell of books was comforting as I followed Emeritus out of the library and down the hall. It was familiar, soothing; a rock to which I clung as the sigil buffeted me. I pressed the books tightly to my chest as I centered myself, pulling my mind back into alignment with my present. The desire remained, aching, but my thoughts were my own again. 

I surreptitiously avoided the weak pools of light cast by the westering sun, keeping to the shadows in order to keep my head. We walked in silence through the abbey, passing the back staircase by the kitchen and turning down the short hallway to the basement stairs. Emeritus shifted his armload of books to his hip and opened the heavy door, standing aside to let me go ahead of him. I, too, shifted my books to my hip, freeing a hand to hold the railing as I descended into the basement. 

Far from what one might expect from the basement of an old, stone abbey, this one had been fully renovated and converted into comfortable, usable space. I had overseen the project several years ago, supervising the design and installation of a lounge, several practice rooms, studio space, the wine cellar and several rooms with more esoteric uses. 

“Come now, my dear,” Emeritus said as the breezed past me towards one of the practice rooms, “he should be in here.”

Emeritus knocked softly on the door and waited. Upon receiving no response, he quietly opened the door a few inches and peered in. I peeked over his shoulder into the room as he opened the door wider.

The ghoul perched on an ottoman he had dragged in from the lounge, a music stand cluttered with papers and pencils sat before him. He was back on to the door. I could see a guitar on his knee, which he strummed nearly silently, the tinny sound of the strings barely audible. 

The misshapen silhouette of his head told me he had headphones on beneath his hood; he was playing only to himself, oblivious. I watched him for a moment, his head nodding rhythmically, stopping to reach out to the amp in front of him and switch channels. I smiled to myself despite the intensified twitching of the sigil. 

There was magic in the world, and then there was magic. This place was built on magic of one kind. The magic of will. Of actions coming to fruition. Of an offering received, a boon granted. Of reaching out into the world and shaping, forming it to your wishes.

There is a quieter magic in the world. In the way the red washes over the trees in spring. In the fire lit by a lover’s touch. In the moonlight pouring a shimmering trail on dark water; stars above, below unknowable. In the way a being could contain such poetry and song. To hear it come to life, given voice and structure; this was the purest form of magic.


	3. Chapter 3

Walking to the table which ran along the wall next to the door, Emeritus raised his armload of books to chest level, winked at me mischievously, and dropped them to the table with a terrific bang. I bit back my laughter as the Ghoul just about came out of his skin in fright. He lept to his feet, knocking off his headphones in the process, and cursing prodigiously. 

The ghoul wheeled around and hotly launched into a tirade in his native tongue, which Emeritus seemed to find quite hilarious. 

I hung back in the doorway, clutching my armful of books like my life depended on it. He hadn't seen me yet, but I had most assuredly seen him. My breath caught in my throat as the sigil’s power roared beneath my breast. I knew the mark had to be glowing luridly beneath my shirt as pure want coursed through my body to pound achingly in my sex. 

I watched, lost in the flow from the sigil as he sat down his guitar and straightened up. His tone changed to a playful one as he walked over to Emeritus and punched him amicably in the shoulder. Emeritus staggered back a few steps, feigning injury and clutching at his arm. 

Emeritus and the ghoul turned to the table to look through the books, and that's when he spotted me. He paused with a book partway open. I could see the gentle movement of his breathing pause momentarily as his merry eyes searched my face. A bead of sweat trickled down my chest as my body was drawn painfully to attention. Adrenaline flooded my system as the ghoul began to walk toward me. 

He was everything in that moment, crossing the room toward me. Asmodeus’ power sang through my body as he closed the distance between us. Memories. Hazy recollections. His lips against my fingers. The smell of grass. Lamplight. Being held so tightly as he broke me apart. 

The ghoul spoke my name quietly as he stopped before me. Startled from my daze, I met his eyes, dark with concern. My face flushed hotly and I was certain I soaked through my panties as he took me by the elbows to steady me. I spread my feet a bit for balance as he slid his fingers along my arms and took hold of the books I so desperately clutched. 

Letting go, I staggered back a step or two. He shifted the books to one arm and started to reach out to catch me. The ache in my cunt actually crossed the threshold into pain as I forced myself to back away from him. He kept pace with me, but came no closer as I retreated across the hall and bumped into the wall opposite the practice room door. 

He cocked his head and stretched his hand out to me. Tears welled up, frustration and pain choking me as I shook my head slowly. I laid a finger to my lips as I pressed my other hand to the sigil. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall. Taking a shaky breath, I opened my eyes again and met his gaze. He looked worried as he made to reach for me again. A tear rolled down my face as I moved along the wall, keeping my distance from him when all I wanted to do was slake this ravaging thirst with his body.

I cleared my throat and pitched my voice loud enough to be heard by Emeritus as well. 

“You two carry on with your work, and I'll see what's down here for a fika.”

It took every ounce of will in my being to turn away from him and walk toward the lounge. I trailed one hand along the wall to anchor myself. The lounge was thankfully unoccupied, and I quickly made my way over to the kitchenette and turned on the cold water. 

I leaned heavily on the edge of the sink, reaching in to scoop up the cold water and splash it on my face. Cocking my head, I bent down to drink directly from the icy stream. The water ran down my cheek and throat. I ran my hand through the the rivulet on my throat and spread it across my chest and the back of my neck. I grasped the edge of the sink with both hands and took a deep breath as the sigil quieted. The cold water felt wonderful on my feverish skin. I could feel myself regaining control once more.

I raised my head and eyed the coffee maker. Back to the business at hand. Glad to have even such a menial task as this to occupy my mind, I grabbed the carafe and filled it with water. Filling the reservoir, I then crouched down to rifle through the cupboards for the coffee and hopefully find some sweets. Thankfully, I was not disappointed on either count. 

I put a full pot on to brew and hoisted myself up to sit on the counter while I waited. The pressure against my clit was enough to rile up Asmodeus’ mark. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to settle myself again. Seeing the roll of paper towel, I tore off a few sheets and ran it under the cold water. I wadded it up and reached up under my shirt to press it to the sigil. Sweet relief washed over me as the cool compress wicked the heat from it and lessened the ache in my sex.

I sighed as the wonderful scent of coffee filled the air. I re-wet the paper towel and held it to my chest. Tension I didn't even realize was present washed out of my shoulders and jaw as my body cooled and the sigil’s grip relaxed. 

Sitting on the counter, I felt the power of the sigil subside to a pleasant fog. My eyes slid shut again as it descended around me. It was as if a golden haze enrobed the edges of my mind, humming a soothing melody just beyond my reach. Goosebumps pricked my skin, running up my arms and washing over my scalp. A pleasant warmth spread through my body, tracing a path from the sigils; Lucifer to Asmodeus, Asmodeus to my sex. Waves of contentment began to lap at my feet, creeping up to wash over my body like the breath of the very gods upon me. I felt weightless, formless, reduced to my most basic essence. 

From the edges, I heard or rather felt that soothing hum becoming more distinct. Within my cocoon, shifting slightly, I strained to make it out. It was hauntingly familiar, like a lost lullaby sung an impossibly long time ago. I tried to hold each note, to remember the melody and sing it back, but it slipped past me like sand through my fingers. My heart ached to hear it more clearly. I reached out to it, opening myself wide as it rose around me, shining and opalescent as moonlight cast on snow. I felt it dance around me and touch each sigil in turn. They rang like bells, pure and resonant, in harmony with the song all around. 

As the sigils vibrated, my form solidified once again. I slowly became aware of my body, and that of another. The other was the source of the melody. It rolled off the figure in streams of pearly illumination. The light poured in cool rivulets down over my stomach as its hand reached out and traced the sigil below my breast. As the last arc was traced, a silent concussion passed through me and I lurched sickeningly back into awareness.

He stood before me. The ghoul. My eyes snapped back into focus as the last of the light dissipated from his face. His hand held my shoulder, steadying me. The ghoul had pulled my hand with the wet paper towel away from the sigil, which he continued to trace.


	4. Chapter 4

Mouth agape, I looked into his hooded face to find a dark cast had crept over his eyes. Breath labored, I grabbed his wrist and pressed his hand to Asmodeus’ mark. Sweet agony roiled through me as all the heat, all the power of the sigil sang through my body once more. The heat of his hand fed it, and I could see in his eyes he felt its call. 

“I tried so hard,” I began, “I tried myself but it was no good...it wasn't enough…” A curse escaped me as he moved closer, my thighs pressing against his hips.

“I could feel the sigil pulling,” he said quietly, “As soon as I saw you, I knew.” He let go of my shoulder and took my free hand.

“I keep hallucinating,” I said as he drew my hand to him. “I keep seeing you,” I gasped as he placed my hand over his own sigil, chest burning beneath his long black robe. “The music…,” I stammered as I clutched at his robe and wrapped my legs around his hips, “it ran over my body…”

I could feel sweat beading on my forehead. His eyes were depthless. I ached. Every nerve in my body sang as the fire poured through me. With a grunt, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me hard against him. His rigid length slid up against my stomach and I grasped it reflexively. Tearing at the fastenings of his robe, I managed to free his cock. Precum leaked liberally from it, a string of it running down my wrist as I cast my eyes back up to his, slowly stroking his cock as he drew a shaky breath. 

“You, too?” I whispered hotly.

“Unbelievably so,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Emeritus?” I said shakily as he began to fumble with the fastenings on my pants. “He knows.”

“Fuck him,” he growled. “This,” the ghoul placed his hand on the sigil below my breast, “this is ours and he can never have it.” 

He grabbed me by the hips and stepped back, pulling me off the counter to stand, weak kneed, before him. I grabbed him roughly by the neck and pushed his mask away, claiming his mouth with mine. The ghoul’s hands were at my breasts, and I moaned helplessly as he quickly unhooked my bra, freeing them for his hands to caress, skin on skin. 

My cleft beat with my heart and his hands on my body brought to bear the entire weight of the demon’s call upon me. With a strangled cry, I pushed him back. I needed him. I needed him to fill me. I needed to drive myself against him until my body was finally sated as only we could manage together. He was the other half of the magic, the missing note from the last chord. 

I looked up at his terrible, beautiful eyes as I stripped my pants and panties down my legs. “Hurry,” I said as tears stung my eyes, “Please.”

His hands were on my ass as I wheeled around and leaned over the counter. He pressed tightly against me, cock grazing my ass as his fingers traced my aching cunt. He grabbed his cock and rubbed it along my slit, pausing at my entrance. He brought his mouth to my neck, biting me hard as he rolled his hips and buried himself deep inside. A silent scream wracked my body as he began to move. I pushed back against him, meeting each thrust with one of my own. Flesh slapping against flesh. The Ghoul’s fingers dug into the supple skin of my hips and he tried to get a better grip. He laid a stinging slap on my ass as he abandoned it to grab my shoulders. He held me by one shoulder as the other hand wandered. With a low growl, he roughly worked his hand under my shirt to find my freed breasts. I arched my back and cried out as he rolled a nipple between his finger and thumb. He slowed his pace and rested his weight against my back, curling his arms around me. I was pinned between him and the counter, unable to move. The Ghoul rolled his hips slowly, so slowly. I could feel his cock sliding slowly up inside and rubbing across my cervix. 

He knew. 

His breath was hot on my neck as I moaned his name. I threw back my head, panting loudly as he continued, torturously slow. 

“Fuck,” I moaned, “please, the sigil...I need you.”

“Oh, lilla räv,” he breathed against my ear, “my sweet, lilla räv. The sigil burns me, too. I'd let it burn me to ash for one more moment inside you.”

Oh, he knew.

I moaned freely as he dropped the cool forehead of his mask to my shoulder. He slid his arm across my chest and gripped the countertop, thus supporting me. I cursed Asmodeus as the ghoul straightened up a bit and began to increase his pace. I canted my pelvis to allow him deeper. The sigil’s power began to coalesce within me, drawing taut like a string he so expertly plucked. The arm around my waist shifted and the ghoul slid his fingers between my folds to stroke my aching clit. 

I clenched around his thrusting cock with all my might as I felt the sigil finally claim its due. The cord within me broke with a tremendous recoil, and the ecstasy of release burned through me. I felt him follow me, the snapping of his own sigil followed by the hot flood of his spent seed mixing with the waves of my own orgasm.

The ghoul’s now-shaking arms were all that was keeping me on my feet. He shifted slightly, and we both gasped as his cock slipped out me. I sank to my knees and managed to tug up my pants before collapsing into a sweaty, panting mess against the cupboards. The cool wood pressed soothingly against my back. He crumpled to a heap next to me, fussing weakly with his robe.Sighing deeply, he let his head fall against the cupboards with a dull thud.

“Your sigil,” he asked softly, “is it sated?”

I closed my eyes for a moment and willed myself to silence. A smile crossed my face as I turned to him.

“It’s quiet now,” I said as I took his hand. “You were what it needed. You’re what I need.”

A blush crept up my face. I usually wasn't so sentimental, but this wasn't the first time I'd tipped my hand to him. He brushed his thumb across my knuckles and knit his fingers between mine. 

We sat there silently for a time, lost in the afterglow of magic, sex, and things left unspoken.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back from a bit of a hiatus, and trying to manage my time better. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support.

A few long moments passed while we caught our breath and my mind settled back into my body once more. The sigil was quiet, no more than an afterimage on my skin. It tingled pleasantly, but with none of the burning urgency it had prior. 

The coffee maker sputtered loudly, rousing me from my reverie. I looked down at our hands, the Ghoul’s fingers knit between my own in a moment of tenderness and vulnerability. His gaze followed mine, and he turned his hand so mine was on top. 

I had always had a thing for hands, and his were no exception. They were sturdy and tough. The ends of his fingers were smooth and thick skinned from years of playing. His fingers were nimble, they were the conduit by which the music left his soul. They were warm and strong wrapped around mine. They could bring such pain, such pleasure. Truly, with his hands on my body, pain and pleasure were one and the same.

The Ghoul pulled my hand into his lap and squeezed it gently. 

“Are you-?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “I think so. And you?”

He was silent for a moment, his bright eyes heavily lidded as he turned within.

“I can feel it but just barely, min lilla räven. I think it’s over for the moment.”

Standing, I pulled him up with me. I felt a slick warmth spread along my cunt as he began to trickle from my body and wick into my already wet panties. Fussing with my pants only made it worse; I needed to change. After I brought the fika in, I thought grimly, a nice cold shower was definitely in order.

The Ghoul must have noticed my discomfort. He laid a hand on my shoulder as I reached into the cupboard to take down the mugs.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said, and thanked me for making the coffee. The Ghoul was notoriously bad at it. 

I stepped back as he picked up the tray. We shuffled awkwardly toward the door, which I opened for him. He took a few steps back toward the practice room and stopped, turning to me.

“Was it just the sigil?” he asked, “Or was there something else you needed me, or uh, you wanted to...?” 

I was caught totally off guard by his question, and stood there for a moment, mouth gaping silently. The whole episode with Emeritus lurking outside my office played painfully back through my thoughts. 

“Emeritus,” I stammered, “He came by and asked me to give him a hand with some books. Carrying them down, apparently.” I decided to leave the more mortifying details out for now. “I was going to ask you something but I guess I forgot what it was once the sigil started up.” 

“I see.” The Ghoul ducked his head briefly and scuffed at a spot on the floor. “Are you coming back?” he blurted out suddenly. 

“I, uh…” 

This was different somehow. He seemed different, his tone, the way he had held my hand. We were together by chance and opportunity. What was between us, the sigils, that was ours. There were no expectations, no demands outside our play. We had no name for what was between us, it simply was. My own heart was becoming increasingly traitorous, posing questions my thoughts pushed away. This wasn’t helping. 

He paused to clear his throat. “What I meant to say is, if you aren't busy later, would you come back down?” 

He fussed with the tray, shifting it to his hip and very nearly dropping it with a curse.

“I wanted to show you what I have been working on and see what you thought of it.”

My face burned, ears threatening to erupt into flames and I was certain I looked like an absolute fool. I mustered up all my courage before speaking.

“Did you want me to hear your work as management or,” I tried to swallow my fluttering heart, which suddenly seemed to have crawled halfway up my throat. “Or did you want me to hear it?”

The Ghoul hitched the tray up and tugged at the edge of his hood before squaring his shoulders and looking up at me again.

“I want you to hear it,” he replied somberly.

I rubbed at one of my burning ears and savagely stuffed an upwelling of emotions away. No, I thought, none of it meant anything and thinking otherwise would cause no good in the end. 

He stepped up to me, tray rattling. With his free hand, he took my wrist and pulled my hand away from my ear. Lost, I felt so lost as he slipped his hand around the back of my neck, fingers cool as they wound through the loose tendrils he found there.

“Are you two roasting the coffee beans on your hot, sweaty bodies, or grinding them between your crotches?”

Emeritus’ shout frightened the life out of me. I jumped, and had to make a desperate grab for the fika tray as the Ghoul reflexively wheeled around. 

“Helvete,” the Ghoul hissed as he grabbed the tray with both hands.

“This is one of the times I’m very glad I don't have cream in my coffee,” Emeritus continued to yell from the practice room, “I don’t know what you're doing to that poor woman, but I’m sure there are some pictures in these books that could be of some assistance to you, Ghoul.”

“Go,” I said, pushing the errant coffee cups back to the center of the tray. “I’ll be back later, hopefully when he’s gone.”

\----

Back in my rooms, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, eyes closed for a moment. The intensity of the day’s emotions overwhelmed me; the calling of the sigil, Emeritus, hallucinating like that...and him. Hot tears slipped down my cheeks. There was confusion there, frustration and overall, exhaustion. Physically so at the end of a busy week, and emotionally as well. 

Hiding my face in my hands, I let go. Silent sobs shook me as I let it fall away, shedding some of the heaviness from my heart. I allowed myself that much.

Taking a fortifying breath, I opened my eyes and let them adjust to the darkness. I knew my rooms like the back of my hand, and navigated easily to the small, white-tiled bathroom.

I flipped on the light and opened the valve on the cast iron radiator, hearing it tick into life. Laying aside my jewelry, a simple amber ring and a utilitarian watch with a steel band, I bent and turned the water on in the tub. In this huge old abbey, it often took a minute or two for it to run hot. Rising, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My face was red and marred with angry red blotches from crying. I sighed heavily and turned away, unbuttoning my blouse and letting it fall to the floor, closely followed by my bra. Turning back to the mirror, I pulled the elastic from my hair and shook it loose. 

I was marked. Red on my face for my weakness. Red again on my shoulder from his teeth, his need. The sigils: Lucifer on my right collarbone, Asmodeus just below my heart. I was marked, claimed for purposes beyond my ken. They were signs of kinship, possession and my own nature.

The water was hot when I checked it, drying my hand on my pants. I sat on the toilet to peel off my socks, grimacing at the wetness as it pressed against my crotch again. The tiled floor was cool against my bare feet as I rose and shucked my pants down over my hips. Gingerly, I peeled off my panties. They were stuck to me, and the smell of sex drew my mind back to nights past. Holding my sodden panties between thumb and finger, I clapped my hand to Asmodeus’ mark as it began to itch suspiciously.

“Seriously?” I muttered.

I eyed the panties and quickly got up and plunged them into the stream of warm water, rubbing them briskly to rinse our scent away and keep the peace. I wrang them out and laid them over the radiator to dry. All that remained was to wash myself and lay the whole thing to rest. 

Taking two towels from the small linen cupboard, I laid them on the closed toilet seat so I could reach them and climbed in the shower. I cut the hot water back so it was just barely at body temperature, not wanting to give the sigil any excuse. With my wet hair slicked back and hanging behind me, I took my soap and set about it. 

The scent of orange blossoms suffused the steam-filled room. My hands were soapy and slick as I worked the bar across my skin, breath catching as I ran my fingers over my nipples, erect under the cool stream. Looking down, I watched the lather and warm water rinsing over my chest and parting around my hard, pink buds. I caught them between my fingers and squeezed, imagining his hands were my own. No, I chided myself, this was not helping. The sigil was beginning to feel full and warm, just as my clit was under my soapy fingers as I lathered my cunt. 

Something he said came back to me as I set a foot on the edge of the tub. I canted my pelvis and let the cool water sluice over my folds, rinsing the soap away. I bit my lip as I adjusted my position to let the stream of water hit my cunt directly. ‘For the moment’, that was it. Unconsciously, I rubbed my thumb over Asmodeus’ sigil. The moment was definitely past from the way the sigil was calling.

I turned up the cold water and let it beat down on my chest, taking some of the rising heat from the sigil and clearing my head. It needed no help from me, I chided myself as I turned my back to the stream and briskly worked the shampoo into my hair.


End file.
